


And it belonged to you

by silverbluebranch9298



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aristocracy, Comfort Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Misunderstandings, Nobility, One Shot, Politics, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 04:52:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19202269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverbluebranch9298/pseuds/silverbluebranch9298
Summary: "It was a form of equal exchange – I offered comfort in the form of the physical and the soothing silence and acceptance, and he repaid me with the delight and joy that came from gazing at his striking beauty. It was enough."She was a daughter of a marquis by day - and the secret lover of a prince by nightfall. It was not love that underpinned their relationship, however. No, their relationship was far more complex than that, both in the past... and the future.One-shot conversation.





	And it belonged to you

I could never read his thoughts.

During daytime, when the golden sunlight glittered on smooth marbled walls and light breezes carried wisps of perfume, he would always wear a mask on his face. He would smile and laugh and speak words sweeter than sugar, his amethyst eyes filled with effortless cordiality and facial muscles arranged flawlessly in a manner befitting royalty. His fluid stature shone more blindingly than the sun itself, and his low, graceful voice had a magnetic pull that charmed women and men alike into unwitting attraction, or even downright submission to his beauty, as I had been. I knew this, because I had always watched him from the shadows of pillars and empty corners, unable to resist my fascination with this lovely creature – so much that I had often considered abandoning the darkness that was my constant companion.

At night, however, in the pale, flickering lights of candles and reflective crystals, his mask would fall off, replaced by real, human emotions – a tug of the brows, an unintentional lowering of the corners of the lips, a slight widening of the irises. The most common one was expressionlessness, however, and this had always been a mystery to me, ever since he first appeared in my chamber at twilight two years ago. What was he thinking about? Why shoulder so much responsibility, so much burden and needless weight that could have been easily taken off like his mask of nobility? Why did he care so much about this cold, harsh kingdom and its mindless people? For I knew that at least, that what occupied his mind was a greater purpose, a drive that spanned across his years as a child and his preparation for adulthood.

That relentless aim, coincidentally, was something that I had never had and would never touch till my oynx-shaded hair turned gray and my smooth skin, the surface of which he was fond of, dried and shrivelled up - as per my sacred oath all those years ago. Perhaps that was the reason, I mused. Perhaps it was motivation that I lacked and not understanding. Perhaps it was not that I did not possess the capability to try and comprehend what ran through that brilliant mind; I merely wished not to find out.

That fateful evening when his purple eyes had stared into mine, framed by soft fringes that had fallen onto his delicate eyelashes, a swirling vortex of sentiments mixed with calculations inside, I did not push him away for fear of the unknown or demanded that he gave part of his heart to me in exchange for what he desired. He was exquisitely pleasing to the eyes, and that was enough. It was a form of equal exchange – I offered comfort in the form of the physical and the soothing silence and acceptance, and he repaid me with the delight and joy that came from gazing at his striking beauty. It was enough.

Yet – today was different.

Lying next to me, his eyes staring into nothingness and his cheekbones standing out even more sharply than they had been in the coup d’etat half a year ago, he radiated so strongly a sense of desolation that even a person as indifferent as I was could not stand it. There were too many possible reasons for this choking melancholy, in fact. His mother, the second queen consort, had been bedridden and diagnosed with a mutated form of the white death. His elder brother, the crown prince, had thrown one of his loyal retainers into the murky waters of the Prison-between-islands for rather obviously fabricated charges because of the blindness of the king and a few high-ranked aristocrats. The warring of the tribal states had spread to our neighbouring countries in an unprecedented moment in history.

I did not know how else to comfort him, however, so I took his hand and gently placed it on mine.

Suddenly, he turned towards me.

“I heard that you have been engaged to my twice-removed cousin today.” The hazy mist in his mind seemed to have cleared, somehow.

The engagement was supposed to be secret as of now, but it was expected of him to know of such an event. “Indeed, your highness. He will make a good husband to any daughter of nobility.”

Momentary surprise fluttered me as an amused chuckle sounded. “Anyone but you, my lady of ice.”

I simply shrugged off the address. “How intriguing of you, my prince, to speak of a cold heart when you had none yourself.”

The mindless banter was as familiar as the feel of his body. I could already expect his next sentence – “You wound me, my lady.”

Except that silence filled the air instead.

He was playing with his silver-plated chain, a gift from a cousin long lost to a wide-eyed boy still marked with traces of innocence. His long, callused fingers flipped the chain consecutively, and sound produced from the friction between the roughness of his blade-tested skin and the hard metal was familiar as well.

Still fiddling with the chain, he answered in an emotionless tone. “Were it not for this lack-of-heart, would you have considered me as a potential consort?”

Silence, again. It stretched into the shadows and into my mind.

Mentally, I sighed, my feelings unclear even to myself.

There were so many things that could have been insinuated in this seemingly casual sentence. Layers within layers of meaning, offerings and warnings bind together – endless suggestions built on the grounding that was his position as the second prince, third-in-line for the throne. And yet, it also lacked real substance, for it had been spoken without sincerity explicitly stated.

I did not speak of the political connotation, that if he married me, the daughter of one of the three great marquises and built a force equivalent to his brother, the turmoil that would haunt the current heir expectant would be enormous. I did not speak of his residual shadow of self-doubt and sorrow, that this sentence would have fit perfectly had it been addressed to another woman half a world away. And most of all, I did not speak of anything remotely connected had the sentence been in the truest of sense.

“Your lack-of-heart is part of you, your highness. It can never be thrown away and should never be.”

Another chuckle, this one with a heavy undertone.

_Why? Was it not the ultimate quality for a great ruler?_

I shook my head to get rid of the bubbling need for answers.

A warm sensation in my left hand revealed that my hand was currently placed his left chest, the wrist guided by his arm.

_Thump, thump, thump._

“This,” he gestured towards his chest. “Do you not feel it? I have a heart.”

He was gazing at me again, an unfinished sentence in his eyes, clear and bright.

It was only after a long, long time that I understood the unspoken words. Long enough for the war to come and go, the country broken and revived. Long enough for the chaos and the calm, for youth to fade and iron-clad chains to be melted.

_And it belonged to you, my lady._

 

 

 

 

 

 


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